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Who Knows That It Is Dark But I?

a lover passed, trying to reach out to his love who remains...
Who knows that this is dark but I

And the steel dust of stars?

Who knows that this is night

Before a resplendent day?

Far above the sky a whisper

Sleep in your casket of gold,

I gave you all that you can hold,

In return for your love.

I shared your dreams,

I saw you kneel and pray.

The grasses sway in the breeze,

And she walks amid memoria,

Weeping for her love,

Who silently holds her there.

And I lie in my silent grave,

My heart broken by lime,

Whilst my soul soars above her,

Aching for her touch.

She the only one who could touch weeps,

The only living soul who can recall,

A word I said,

Noted down to each small twist,

Each gesture of goodwill,

And forgave me for each error,

When I choked upon mistake.

The grasses sway in the breeze,

As in the April of my dying day.

She walks amid memoria,

Weeping for her love.

When I smiled yet moved no more,

When I was silent before my creator,

When I was placed in this silent grave,

All I lost was the way to say “I love you.”

And so my body heaves against the earth walls,

And my soul dances about her,

Trying to be seen I scream, “I love you.”

But she cannot hear,

There is no agent far or near,

To pass my message,

Except for the praying breeze,

Which swings through each night,

And the moonlight,

Illuminating each tear.

July 1995.

This story is protected by International Copyright Law, by the author, all rights reserved. If found posted anywhere other than with this note attached, it has been posted without my permission.

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